


Bicentennial

by myrtlebroadbelt



Category: Lost
Genre: 1970s, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-31
Updated: 2020-07-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25625509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myrtlebroadbelt/pseuds/myrtlebroadbelt
Summary: In 1976, Juliet watches Sawyer catch up to his past.
Relationships: Juliet Burke/James "Sawyer" Ford
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Bicentennial

Over dinner, he asks about the sub. That should be her first clue.

“It’s leaving Tuesday, right?”

“Yeah. Why? You got a hot date?”

“Very funny,” he says, all dimples. “We need new tapes in the office. Gotta put an order through in time.”

There’s something about the way he looks down at his plate. But then he’s back to gossiping about Jerry and Rosie, and Juliet puts it out of her mind.

He gets up earlier than usual on Tuesday morning.

Juliet wakes in the predawn light to find him tugging his boots on at the foot of the bed.

“Everything okay?” she asks, thinking she must have slept through a phone call or a knock on the door.

“Yeah,” James says over his shoulder. “Miles was feeling sick last night, so I told him I’d cover his shift.”

“Tell him to take it easy on the Dharmalars,” Juliet mumbles into the pillow.

“I’ll be sure to do that.” He comes around to her side of the bed and kisses her hair. “Sorry I woke you up. Go back to sleep.”

She does just that, too tired to consider that he’s being anything but truthful.

Juliet’s climbing into bed a week later when she notices his watch on the bedside table. For a second she wonders how they managed to stay up so late, but then she checks the alarm clock and sees that it’s actually hours earlier.

“Your watch is wrong,” she calls.

“Just leave it,” James responds from the bathroom. “I’ll take care of it.”

“It’s okay, I got it.” She reaches to wind it.

“I said _leave it_ ,” he snaps, appearing in the doorway. His wild eyes soften when he sees her expression. “I just … don’t want you breaking it.”

As if she doesn’t do the very opposite of breaking things every day at the motor pool.

She stares at him, then points to her own chin. “You missed a spot.”

He’s been shaving, and there’s a dollop of cream there that he neglected to clean off. He blinks, then wipes it away and returns to the bathroom.

Juliet puts the watch back on the table and slides over to her side of the bed. It’s too late to get into an argument over whatever he’s hiding — it’ll come out soon enough.

The next day, she’s under the hood of a jeep when Radzinsky appears beside her.

“Hey, tell your boyfriend he can’t just barge in whenever he wants.”

Juliet continues to work, barely glancing up. Radzinsky is prone to overreaction, and she hates being interrupted almost as much as he does.

“I’m sure he had a good reason, Stuart.”

“Oh, really?” he scoffs. “I wasn’t aware that knowing the current time in Alabama was critical to our security.”

The wrench stills in her hand. She looks at him, forcing a neutral expression onto her face, even though her stomach feels like it’s six inches higher than it’s supposed to be.

“I’ll talk to him,” she says, and he mercifully walks away.

She spends the rest of the day distracted, thinking back to when she read his file, trying to recall what the date was. Her memory comes up short.

The sub’s gone, so he can’t go anywhere. She wonders if that’s why he got up so early last week. To put himself on that dock at the last minute and see his chance disappear with the periscope.

The watch is just so he can know when it’s happening. Whether it’s to torture himself or move past it, she’s not sure. Maybe a little bit of both.

“Stuart said you were at the Flame yesterday,” Juliet says as they’re preparing dinner.

He didn’t say it was yesterday, but that’s when the watch changed.

“Uh, yeah,” James says, opening the refrigerator as an excuse not to look at her. “Phil thought he saw something weird on the monitor, so I drove up to check it out.”

He grabs a beer and turns around, leaning against the closed fridge door. Casual.

“Turned out to be nothing,” he adds with a shrug. “Waste of time.”

He pops the tab on the can a bit too forcefully, and beer foams out over his hand, dripping onto the floor. Juliet takes a towel off the counter and passes it to him. When she puts it in his hand, she lingers there for a moment, lightly squeezing his fingers.

Their eyes meet. His are wide, searching. 

She just wants him to know that she knows. That if he wants to talk about it, or just be a mess around her, he can skip the explanation.

She takes her hand away.

“Thanks,” James says quietly, and Juliet’s pretty sure it’s for more than just the towel.

When the day arrives, there’s no doubt about it.

Juliet wakes up in a half-empty bed. She walks into the living room to find James staring into space, still in his boxers and T-shirt.

“You okay?” she asks, and he startles at the sound of her voice.

He closes his eyes and rubs them with both hands. “Couldn’t sleep,” he says, pushing himself out of his chair.

“I’ll make you some coffee,” she offers.

“Ain’t got time.” He shuffles past her on bare feet. “Gotta get dressed.”

Juliet’s in the bathroom brushing her teeth when she hears him leave through the front door without a goodbye. 

She thinks about him all day. Not just the man she knows, but the boy she doesn’t. 

Regardless of what Daniel said about changing the past, she wonders what it was that convinced him it wasn’t worth trying anyway. 

Then she remembers what he said that night by the outrigger — when he told her about seeing Kate in the jungle. How he could have talked to her, but he didn’t.

_What’s done is done._

Something tells her he became acquainted with that phrase long before time stopped being a straight line.

James doesn’t take off his jumpsuit before sitting down for dinner, like he just wants to get it over with. He shovels the food into his mouth, swallowing like it’s a struggle.

Juliet doesn’t say anything, but she glances at him almost as much as he glances at his watch.

“I’m gonna hit the hay,” he declares as soon as his plate is clean.

He starts to stand up, but Juliet puts her hand over his where it rests on the table. 

“James,” she says softly.

He looks up at her, then away, shaking his head. “Please, Juliet.”

So she lets him go, flinching as he shuts the bedroom door behind him.

She washes the dishes, curls up on the couch with a book she can’t focus on, pours herself wine she doesn’t drink. James doesn’t come out of the bedroom.

Eventually, Juliet opens the door. 

The lamps are off, but there’s light filtering in through the curtains. His jumpsuit and boots are in a heap on the floor, and he’s on her side of the bed, facing the far wall. 

She changes into her pajamas and slips under the covers beside him. He’s still at first, and quiet. She makes it a point not to touch him, lying on her back and staring at the dark ceiling.

After a moment, the mattress starts to shake. It doesn’t take her long to realize that it’s because James is shaking, too. She hears him take a gulping breath, letting it out with the kind of sound that escapes when you’re trying to hide that you’re crying.

Juliet rolls toward him, pressing herself against his back and reaching an arm around him. She can feel the muscles in his stomach contracting with every sob. 

“I love you,” she says, because no other words will do.

James takes her hand and holds it against his chest, clutching it like he’s afraid she’ll disappear if he doesn’t. Juliet presses her nose into the back of his hair.

Somewhere, right this second, he’s all alone. 

But not here.


End file.
